A Reason to Smile
by Green-eyed Blue Cat
Summary: With State Vs Iris resolved, Phoenix tries to deal with the aftermath while catching up with Miles before his return to Europe. Set immediately after case 3-5.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

**Chapter 1**

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth slowly sipped his Earl Grey while taking in the atmosphere in Trés Bien. The restaurant was small but fancy, and while the color scheme reminded him of his own office, that was where the similarity ends. The decorations of the restaurant leant towards the feminine side one notch too many, while the suffocating smell of the bouquets of flowers pervaded his olfactory system. Granted, there would always be a bouquet of fresh flowers near the window in his office, but that was Detective Dick Gumshoe and – he shuddered – Miss Wendy Oldbag's idea of freshening up the environment. He might not have wanted it there, but he never made a point to clear it out as well. Indeed, he wondered how Gumshoe, of all people, would suggest coming to Trés Bien, with him having nothing in common with the posh restaurant.

At the detective's sudden loud "Whooop!", Miles turned his head towards the restaurant front door to see the main guests of the day finally appearing. Seeing them still clad in attires from earlier that day and wearing tired looks on their faces, Miles imagined that it had been a far too long day for Phoenix Wright and both Miss Feys. Maya Fey's little cousin – Pearl, was it? -- clung tightly to the black-haired teenager, while his old friend held the door open for them.

His sister, Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, only looked at them for a second before returning her attention to Miss Adrian Andrews, who was excitedly telling her about the latest events going on at Lordly Tailor. Miles and Miss Andrews had a brief acquaintance during a case trial almost a year ago, but what was mystifying for him was that Franziska seemed to have taken quite the liking to the older woman, to the point that she invited Miss Andrews to Trés Bien on her last night in LA.

Larry Butz, the other old friend of his that he would not acknowledged to knowing unless it was important, was pointedly ignored by both women, despite his incessant and embarrassing flirtations towards them both. A few lashes or so of Franziska's whip did nothing to deter his enthusiasm.

Wright and the two girls sat down on the seats left for them. Maya reached for the menu the moment she was seated, declaring she was so hungry, she could "eat up Gourdy", and pored over the menu together with Pearl. Wright apologized in his usual defeated pose for being late, earning himself a lash from Franziska.

When the defense attorney's eyes glanced over at Miles, he let out an embarrassed smile.

"Edgeworth."

"Wright," the prosecutor returned.

Neither talked again until a waitress came over to take their order, and Miles rudely realized he hadn't made up his mind.

"Filet mignon, please," he finally conceited, closing his menu. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Wright struggling with his order. When he heard the man finally making up his mind on only a bowl of soup, he wondered if the defense attorney was taking pity on the detective's wallet. The prices of the dishes in the restaurant weren't too high in his standards, but it must be taxing on Gumshoe.

When everyone's orders had been taken, the waitress returned to the kitchen. Edgeworth reached again for his cup of Earl Grey and leant back on his chair. People around him were making conversation -- Miss Andrews was still talking to Franziska; Larry finally gave up on the ladies and had turned to dishing out love advices to Gumshoe; Wright and his assistant were telling the younger Miss Fey a story about a Wright-look-alike and...poisoned coffee? – while he was contend with sipping his tea.

_I am ill-fitted here._

But even as his thought skimmed over those negative opinions of himself, his eyes caught, several times, Wright throwing a look of concern over him, before returning to the girls.

He felt awkward, as he did often in front of people who knew him. He wanted to ask how both Feys were doing after the case, and probably Larry too. He wondered how Gumshoe was faring at the police station, without him helping with the investigation half of the time. And Phoenix Wright...

But he never did ask. He didn't know how.

"...right, Edgeworth?" Wright's voice cut through his thoughts.

"...I beg pardon?" Miles blinked at the three sets of eyes watching him.

Wright gave a small chuckle, "I was just telling Pearls about that one time a guy used a badge made of cardboard to impersonate me in court. And now they just let you in without bothering to check on your ID. I'm just saying the court is so lenient these days, that even Maya could act as a defense attorney anytime she wants without a legit ID."

Miles's face turned into a scowl, "Has the California court really gone to such low depths?"

The sudden change in Miles's demeanor made Wright fumble for words, "Ah! M-Maya hasn't done anything like that, yet..."

_Are you saying that she probably would?!_

"...but someone did make a badge out of cardboard and fooled everyone, even when he looked and sounded nothing like me!"

"It's the hair, Nick," Maya butted in.

"When?!" Miles slammed the table with his left hand, almost upsetting a few glasses and scaring his other dinner companions.

"It was just last December. Look, I'll tell you the story, if you would just stop glaring at me like that!" Wright answered with a sheepish look.

_This is ridiculous! How did the court system of California become like this?!_

"What foolishness has gotten my little brother to seethe like this?" Franziska sneered.

"Food's here!" Maya suddenly proclaimed happily. The waitress had returned and proceeded to placing everyone's dishes down respectively.

Miles glared at the filet mignon in front of him. It looked nothing like filet mignon.

_Even the food in California is a joke!_

As everyone dug into their dish, Miles took a half-hearted taste. It wasn't exactly what he had expected, but it was still edible. The others, however, enjoyed their meal with gusto.

"Hey, this is actually not bad. I guess the new owner found a chef with real cooking skills this time," Wright exclaimed.

Miles dared not imagine how the food there tasted before.

Over the course of the meal, they exchanged news, joked a little and had a merry time. The proceedings of the day and the events before were deftly avoided. Even though Miles was often quiet, Wright would try his best to get him into their conversation, when he and Maya weren't busy trying to cheer the little one up.

By the time the food was gone and the wine bottle emptied, it was almost eleven. Pearl was already chain-yawning and having a hard time keeping her eyes open. With a smile, Wright declared that they should probably take her home. Everyone else agreed that it had been an exhausting day, and would be leaving as well.

"I'm going over to Adrian's house for a cup of coffee, little brother, so I won't be returning to the hotel with you," Franziska looked over to Miles.

Miles nodded, "Do remember your flight is tomorrow morning. I'll accompany you to the airport."

Franziska scoffed as she prepared to leave, "I can manage the trip to the airport on my own perfectly, Miles Edgeworth. You don't have to bother."

"I will accompany you, nonetheless."

Franziska muttered a "suit yourself" under her breath as Miss Andrews thanked the detective for the dinner and said their goodbyes to the group. Miles looked over to the drunken form of Larry, all sprawled out on the table. The man would have tried to follow the two women home if he were half-sobered, Miles mused. Good thing he wasn't.

"Edgeworth."

Miles turned his head. Wright had moved from his seat to sit beside him. Miles noticed the girls were missing, and threw the defense attorney a cocked eyebrow.

"They've gone to the ladies. Listen, I haven't thanked you for helping me out these couple of days, and we really need to catch up with each other. When are you leaving?"

Miles straightened his back, "I have some business to attend to, while I'm in the city. I haven't bought the flight tickets, but probably this weekend."

Wright made a face that Miles couldn't decide if it was relief or just tiredness. "I see. Let's do lunch, or dinner, or something. You know, before you leave."

"Something?" Miles raised both eyebrows at him.

"Something. But not tonight. I want to make sure the girls are all right."

Miles thought about the suggestion. Coming back to the states were as suddenly as such, no thanks to Larry's incomprehensible gibberish over the phone just three days ago, but since he was back, he figured he could do with a short vacation while attending to loose ends in that part of the world. While 'doing something' with Phoenix Wright wasn't high up on the list, there was no reason to refuse, especially when Phoenix Wright's sincere eyes trained on him for a positive answer.

"Understood. I'll...make time."

There was that idiotic smile on his old friend's face again, Miles observed. It was then that Maya and Pearl returned from the restrooms, and so Wright and co. waved goodbye to the group, while Wright thanked profusely for the celebration. As he kept the door open for the girls to pass through, he looked back at Miles and made a call sign with his hand, before realizing how stupid he looked and sheepishly put it down. Miles watched with amusement as his friend bid a hasty retreat.

Their waitress returned to the table with the check, as Gumshoe fumbled for his wallet. Miles dug his own out, and insisted that he pay for the meal. Gumshoe protested, and in the end they agreed to split the bill. The waitress bowed and thanked them before leaving their table.

Again, Miles looked over at Larry with a bit of annoyance, "I suppose we should take him home as well."

Gumshoe nodded and stood up, with Miles reluctantly following him. Both men struggled to lift Larry from his drunken position, and it wasn't any easier trying to drag the man out of the restaurant and into Gumshoe's car, but they managed.

With Larry snoring loudly in the back car seat, Miles and Gumshoe buckled up at the front.

"Mr Edgeworth," Gumshoe turned the keys to the engine, "are you free for lunch some day? I think I wanna ask for some advice from you, since you look like you have tons of experience in this..."

"Pertaining to what?" Miles asked. _Legal advice? Living in Europe? Wallowing in self pity?_

Okay, that last one was unnecessary, even to himself.

"Ah..." Gumshoe seemed to have trouble voicing it out, and if it were bright enough, Miles would have noticed the man sweating bullets. "Larry's been trying to teach me a few tricks the whole night, but I figured I should ask from a real pro..."

"Gumshoe, what is it?"

"It's...it's about a girl..."

Miles stared at him disbelievingly. Him having tons of experience in girls? Him a real pro? The truth couldn't be further!

"I hardly believe I am qualified..."

He was cut short by a pair of puppy eyes. For someone as large as Gumshoe, his puppy eyes were disarmingly helpless and innocent.

Miles gave in quickly, "Fine. If you really think I'm suitable for giving out advices of this sort."

Gumshoe beamed as he spouted a string of thank yous while attempting to drive.

_Oh well...might as well introduce him to some real food while I'm at it too._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

**Chapter 2**

Many times, Phoenix wished that Life would be more generous as to provide him with a slow button to help cope with the hectic periods in his life, such as before every trial, and especially the time following Iris's trial. But, if Life were really that kind-hearted, he would have no trouble dealing with snarky prosecutors, or at the very least, get clients that could actually _pay_ him.

So much had happened in a short span of time. Three days, to be precise. He had set out to find an answer from his past and in return, he received tribulations.

He shifted uncomfortably in the cramped backseat of the cab. He had wanted to sit in front and give the girls more space to sit comfortably, but Pearl put on a stance when she heard.

"Mr Nick! You should sit with your special someone every chance you got!" she countered. Phoenix wanted to protest, but clearly there was no bargaining with the child, as she stood there with a lifted sleeve and a fierce expression on her face.

_Of all the other impossible witnesses and prosecutors I battle in the courtroom, I lose to a nine-year-old..._

No one made conversation during the rest of the ride. Pearl had already dozed off, still half-clinging to Maya. The teenager was silent as well, and not long after the defense lawyer felt her head rested upon his shoulder. He subtly lowered himself to accommodate her more comfortably.

A yawn escaped from his mouth. The last time he felt this exhausted was nearly a year ago, and it had involved Maya as well. Come to think of it, if it weren't for Edgeworth and Franziska, whom had also helped in that case...A lurching sensation rose from his stomach, and he fought to pushed it down. He had always been sensitive in that respect.

Too much, he thought. The girl has been through too much for her age. He loved both girls dearly, and the thought of any of them in danger was too much to bear.

He slowly twisted his neck to check on the girls, to _see_ with his own eyes they're really there and okay, and found them huddling each other even in their sleep.

***

They made a quick stop at Phoenix's apartment to grab a change of clothes and some hygienic products he needed to spending the night, and then headed straight for the girls' apartment a few blocks away.

***

When they reached the downstairs of Maya's apartment building, Phoenix offered to carry Pearl up the stairs. The tiredness was evident on her face, but the little girl politely declined, and held unto Maya's hand as they made the ascend. Phoenix actually wouldn't mind holding her for a while longer. He hadn't exactly gotten over the fact that he almost lost her back in Hazakura. In fact, if he were strong enough, he would have gladly carry them both on his back, if only to reassure himself that they were both really there beside him, safe and sound.

Maya unlocked the wooden door to her apartment, and they stepped into the room as the teenager proceeded to turn on the lights one by one. Slowly the room was bathed in soothing soft light which bounced effortlessly from wall to wall, showcasing the vintage movie posters on them, and finally resting on the grey-colored carpet. Only two years ago it had been Mia's apartment, Phoenix quietly noted. Actually, it still felt hauntingly familiar, as Maya had retained much of her sister's furniture arrangements and decorations. Even the smell was familiar. Phoenix remembered watching a documentary on Discovery Channel that stated the human brain associates smell with memories much quicker and easier than through sight, and he could attest to the experience then and there. The only glaring contradiction was the piles and piles of magazines and DVDs cluttering the living space of the room of the formerly pristine apartment...

Pearl had been quiet since the cab ride, then suddenly she grabbed hold of Maya's right hand and remarked timidly that she'd like to visit Sister Iris, before their return to Kurain Village. It took Maya a while to register the request, after which she added that she'd like to talk with Mr Armando as well, to thank him for what he'd done for her. As both sets of eyes looked to the defense attorney gingerly, Phoenix let out a short sigh and agreed to bring the girls down to the detention center the next day, even when he wondered if it was a good idea to do so in such short passing of time.

As the girls took a bath together, Phoenix was left alone in the living room. Finding no place to seat, he attempted to clear away the magazines (and grimaced over finding more issues of "Oh! Cult!") residing over Maya's sofa.

He was actually halfway through tidying the kitchen when he finally heard the bathroom door open and the pitter-patter of Maya herding the younger girl into their bedroom, followed by the sound of a blowdryer as Phoenix continued with battling the stubborn stains on the kitchen counter.

No other sound save the running of water was heard as Phoenix clean the kitchen sink. The humming of the blowdryer was long gone but neither girls came out of the bedroom for another long spell. Phoenix wondered if he should just take a shower instead of providing free labor services. When the bedroom door finally re-opened, the defense attorney was almost finished with the living room and the kitchen, and was seriously considering starting with the toilet.

He turned towards the door and was surprised to see Pearl not asleep yet, and noted how different she looked with her hair down, which was rare. Maya stood there in the doorway, as Pearl ran over and gave her Mr Nick a big hug, before beckoning him to bend lower so she could kiss him on the cheek and say goodnight.

Phoenix felt a warm tingling sensation somewhere inside him as he watched the little girl flit back to her cousin and both disappeared into the bedroom once more. He finished up the kitchen quickly, just in time as Maya stepped out of her room, alone.

"She's finally asleep," Maya gave Phoenix a tired smile as she headed for the formerly cluttered sofa. She reached for a pillow and curled into a ball. Phoenix decided to join her as well.

"Did you just clean the house? Wow, if I'd known you were this good at housekeeping, I should have invited you here more often," Maya teased, with a glint in her eyes.

Phoenix furrowed his eyebrows, "And you're very welcomed."

Maya giggled, but quickly the heavy silence permeating the room returned.

Phoenix sat looking at his hands, and had gotten rather comfortable with the silence when suddenly Maya broke it.

"I'm glad you're here right now, Nick."

He turned and faced the girl. She had made no movement following that statement, and had continued staring into the empty space in front of her.

Phoenix watched her for a few seconds, and turned himself slightly towards the girl, "Come here."

Maya looked at Phoenix for only a heartbeat before obediently scooting into Phoenix's arm and laying her head on his chest, her arms still clutching at the pillow. Phoenix hugged the girl closer, feeling the warmth emitting from the small, fragile body and smelling her vanilla-scented raven hair.

_...She really is here. I can trust my eyes that she is really here._

"I don't know what to think anymore."

Drawing a deep breath, she continued on with how she's holding up so far, and how she thought Pearly was taking it as well; that she's feeling a bit guilty that her mother's death didn't actually affect her that much. Given that she wasn't around while Maya was growing up, and with only a vague memory of how her mother loved her very much, she wasn't feeling as sad as she should be. Probably coupled with the fact that as a Fey member, death is not much of a hindrance. She also noted that it was ironic that she could never see her when she was still alive, no matter how much she wanted, but now that her mother was dead, she could actually see her whenever she wished.

Phoenix said nothing, but held her as he once did a year ago, the same way when Maya returned safe from Engarde's case. He was content with just holding her, in part to reassuring the girl and in part to reassuring himself.

Maya continued on with her concerns with Pearl. She was all the child had left. Even after all that she had said to convince the little girl that what had happened would not change anything between them, the little girl was still begging for forgiveness on her bed. Maya never wanted her young cousin, who was practically her little sister, to think that in any part, she was guilty of participating in the scheme. She twiddled with the talisman her mother left her, and playfully popped open the secret compartment. She mentioned that her relatives in Kurain had been trying to contact her from that late afternoon, probably after the police informed them of her mother's death, but she didn't want to deal with them yet. However, she had made up her mind to return to Kurain with Pearl tomorrow. She still couldn't believe she was officially the Master of Kurain.

Phoenix watched as Maya took out the old photo Mystic Misty had kept inside the talisman and unfolded it. They both looked at picture for what felt like a very long time, until Maya broke the silence again.

"I miss my sister."

She wrapped herself around the pillow tighter and sobbed into it. It was all Phoenix could do to hug her even tighter, as he felt his eyes starting to sting as well.

As her crying subsided, Phoenix slowly let go. Maya lifted her head to reveal red, swollen eyes.

"That was embarrassing, I didn't mean to cry..."

Phoenix gently patted her head, "You know what your sister always says, 'a lawyer can't cry until it's really the end'."

Maya cracked a smile through her tears, "I'm not a lawyer, Nick. But thanks."

_She's smiling...She's going to be all right._

Finally returning to the usual cheery self, Maya said goodnight to Phoenix and disappeared into Pearl's and her room.

Phoenix stayed on the sofa a while longer, trying his damnedest to untangle every mess in his head. When he didn't make much progress, he figured a shower would help. But as he stood under the scolding hot water cascading down on his head, his found it wasn't as easy as he thought.

For all the time that had past, it was then that Phoenix was really alone with his thoughts. Maya, Pearls, Iris, _Dahlia_, Diego Armando...Mia...

The unsettling sensation in his stomach returned again, and he quickly cleared all thoughts.

_I shouldn't let Maya and Pearls follow me around cases anymore...Wait, what am I talking about...starting tomorrow, she's no longer my assistant..._

He found it amusingly conflicting that he's both glad and sad at the same time.

Turning off the water, he haphazardly dried himself with the towel, and made way to the couch, which served as his bed for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

**Chapter 3**

Complete darkness.

Complete darkness and suffocation.

He didn't know what was going on, but at the same time it felt familiar. His heart raced and he tried to call out, but he couldn't make a sound.

It felt so goddamned familiar. Had he been there before?

It was so dark.

He didn't know what would happen, but at the same time he knew something would happen. Soon. And it was eating at his heart.

A loud sound went off.

Miles Edgeworth awoke abruptly, his mouth dry and heart thumping madly in his chest. It was a familiar sensation, one that followed him for fifteen years. On a table across the room, his handphone continued with its loud alarm for a few more seconds, before finally giving up and quieted down.

Remnants of the dream slowly faded away as consciousness kicked in, but the fear it brought lingered still for a few more minutes. The prosecutor lay on bed, eyes wide open, while willing himself to calm down by controlling his breathing. Lifting a shivering hand to lay above his eyes, he laughed softly but grimly.

He told Wright his nightmares were gone. Not since his trial two years ago. He knew the truth about his father's death, so technically the nightmares should stop. Technically. In reality, he could do little to stop his sleeping mind from reaching whatever conclusion it wanted to arrived at on its own. He was only grateful that he had started having good dreams once again, as the old nightmares dwindled in number.

After he felt that he had relaxed sufficiently, he got up from bed and for a moment, was confused as to where he was. He brushed the last clinging of the dream away and finally remembered that he had checked-in to a hotel room yesterday afternoon, almost immediately after Wright's trial. Perhaps it was seeing Phoenix Wright again that brought about his nightmare. Ridiculous, he thought to himself as he turned off the lamp beside the bed he had intentionally left turned on through the night. That bumbling idiot saved him two years ago, in more ways than the defense attorney might ever know. To attribute the fool as a cause for his nightmare is just…atrocious. Not to mention very ungrateful.

Miles reached for his watch on the nightstand. The elegant silver piece had its ornate hands pointing to a quarter past seven. He frowned. Despite a fitful sleep, he had managed to sleep through his handphone alarm, set to ring at six. If memory served, Franziska's flight was due in two hours.

He knew the young woman would have already left for the airport on her own, despite his offer made yesterday to escort her, but Miles found himself calling her room using the hotel room phone. His brows furrowed deeper when there was still no answer after the ninth ring. In haste, he hung up and rushed into the washroom with his clothes.

An hour later, Miles stepped out of the taxi and entered the airport in long, graceful strides. He had managed to reach on time after all. He located the boarding gate that Franziska told him through his phone call while in the taxi, and it didn't take long before he spotted the head of light-azure hair above a row of benches.

"Franziska," he called out.

The young woman turned her head around, a scowl visible on her face, "Miles Edgeworth. And here I thought I could have some peace without some foolish fool coming over to ruin my perfect morning."

Miles allowed a ghost of a smile appear on his face before sitting down beside Franziska.

"When do you intend to return to Germany?" the young woman asked.

"Soon. I wish to settle some...business here," Wright's face suddenly flashed across Miles's mind. He unconsciously tightened his jaw.

The young woman snorted, "I don't understand how you can stand this foolishly foolish place. The justice system in Europe is far superior to the flawed system here, and yet you chose to practise law here, for years even!"

Miles remained quiet.

"Heed my advice, little brother, that you will return to Germany as soon as you have settled whatever foolish 'business' that you have here," she ended her sentence with a tight tug of her whip.

Miles arched his eyebrows, "I fully intend to do just that, worry you not of me."

Franziska glared at him, "I hope your extension here has nothing to do with that fool, Phoenix Wright."

Miles nearly jumped in surprise. His sister didn't seem to notice though, as she continued her tirade.

"From the moment I heard that you took an emergency leave and left for LA in a hurry, I knew it must involve your foolish friend. That man had you turning soft. The Miles Edgeworth I know had to be ordered by a superior before he would consider taking a sick leave."

_It was just a flu. Nothing my immune system can't handle on its own._

"In my defense, Larry made the situation sound a lot worse--" Miles countered, but was cut short.

"Is there something I should know between the two of you?"

Miles could feel his heart literally missing a beat, "Th-that's..._preposterous_!"

Franziska didn't seem convinced, "You know full well how disgraceful it is to let your emotions take control of you, Miles Edgeworth. This would make you a lesser worthy opponent of mine."

As oft in court, Miles quickly recovered with a counter-argument, "Haven't you something to tell me as well? Specifically, what is going on between you and Miss Adrian Andrews? I've never heard of you getting close to anyone involved in any of your cases before. This is a first."

"Th-that's..._different_!" the young woman replied with a stamp of her feet.

_I'd dare say that should keep her quiet for a then again, this might prove to be interesting..._

Miles wagged a finger at her, "And how different is it with your accusation of me? I'd like to know what you really did at Miss Andrews's house last night. I don't believe it was merely for 'coffee', as you stated. You could have done that at Tres Bien."

"I-I was giving her _whipping lessons_!"

"That is not making the situation less suspicious--"

"MILES EDGEWORTH!"

Franziska's face was flushed red, and was going to open her mouth to yell some more when suddenly Miles's handphone rang. The caller ID indicated it was a colleague from Frankfurt's DA office, which he thought was odd, seeing as it should be past midnight halfway around the globe. He excused himself for a moment, and pressed on the answer button.

"Miles Edgeworth."

"Herr Edgeworth, I'm sorry for intruding, but something's happened..."

Author's note: Life's been a bitch. Sorry for the slow updates, guys. And thanks to all the people who reviewed and faved this baby of mine.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

**Chapter 4**

Phoenix opened his eyes to see Pearl hitting his right arm repeatedly, instead of the judge he had expected to see, who had been pounding him with a gavel relentlessly while chasing him around Courtroom No. 3 in a bizarre dream. Pearl let out a small cheer at seeing him finally awake, explained that she only hit him because shaking him awake didn't work ("You grumbled an "Objection!" and went back to sleep, Mr Nick."), and ran off to the kitchen promptly.

Groggily, he sat up on the couch while massaging his sore arm. He would never admit that it hurt, but it felt like his arm was tenderized to perfection by the little girl. If given a choice, he would have chosen the judge's gavel over the little girl's punches anytime.

Over by the kitchen, he could hear Maya telling Pearl that she should have let him continue sleeping, and Pearl replying that it was already ten o'clock and that the detention center had already opened. Scratching the back of his head, Phoenix remembered that he had promised the girls he would bring them to visit Iris.

He still wondered if it was a good idea, and truth was, he had mixed feelings about seeing her.

Stepping over to the dining table, Phoenix saw that the girls had prepared breakfast, and were keeping it warm with overturned plates placed over it. Maya and Pearl reappeared just as he was lifting one of the overturned plates to check on the breakfast.

"Hamburgers," he deadpanned.

"Good for any meal," Maya mimicked his expression.

No point arguing with the world's biggest supporter of the hamburger industry, Phoenix chuckled as he grabbed his toiletries and went into the bathroom.

###

The detention center felt colder than ordinary. Phoenix wondered if it was only his imagination. The girls seemed fine on the bench, while he felt it was necessary to generate some heat by walking to and fro in the corridor.

When the guard gave them permission to enter the room, he could have sworn his heart tried to escape through his mouth that instant.

Iris Fey was already seated in the other side of the room. When she saw who the visitors were, it was clear on her face that she panicked as well. Her eyes darted between the girls and Phoenix, being uncertain of how she should react in that situation.

It was Maya who solved the dilemma. Easing herself into one of the two seats available, while Pearl took the other, she smiled and asked how Iris was feeling.

The nun was taken aback for a moment, before gingerly replying that she felt much better compared to a few days ago, now that the truth was finally known.

Phoenix stood against a wall, quietly observing the three girls. Maya was always the strongest and bravest among them, as she took control of the situation to getting everyone feeling comfortable. Pearl was still the timid little girl who stuck close to her older cousin, only answering with a smattering of words occasionally when asked. Iris was...He'd like to think of her as the same sweet, gentle girl he knew from his college days, but lately, he wasn't sure of anything anymore.

A few moments later the girls seemed to have cleared away the metaphorical iceberg and had started to chatter away. Iris still seemed a bit nervous, though. Her eyes flickered to Phoenix every once in a while, but they quickly turned away when she spotted that he was looking at her as well. Phoenix felt like he was eighteen again, as his heart skipped a beat every time he caught her eyes on him.

Maya asked if Iris was being treated well. "Promise you'll tell if you aren't, 'cause I would channel Genghis Khan or Conan the Barbarian and kick their asses for you!"

Phoenix wanted to smack his forehead. Maya might be the best sister/cousin Pearl could ever ask for, but the ideas she could be putting into the nine-year-old's head worried him sometimes. Speaking of whom, the little girl must be lost among the conversation, as she could be seen blinking her large, innocent eyes while turning her head from Iris to Maya, then back again.

Iris took a few seconds to completely stifle her laughter, and to wipe away the escaping tears from the corner of her eyes, "No, it's all right. I'm doing fine. Please don't bother the poor old souls."

_Has no one realized yet that Conan the Barbarian is purely fictional?_

The girls continued on with safe topics, and Phoenix slowly grew accustomed to his role as a wallflower-cum-observer. It was amazing how his mind managed to recall most of Dollie's mannerism and how natural they seemed on Iris. He understood that the Dollie he found himself enamored with years ago, in a weird twist of fate, was really Iris, but realization needed time to sink itself in. He knew sooner or later, he would have to ask himself the question.

_Now that I know the truth, what am I going to do about Iris and me?_

Iris had already given him her answer the day before. He still owed her his.

Matters of the heart were never an easy topic to tackle, and Phoenix, to be god-awfully honest, sucked buckets. He decided that he would think about it later.

When every safe topic was exhausted, they finally touched on Misty Fey. Immediately, the whole mood changed. Uneasiness permeated the room, but it was something everyone had to face sooner or later.

Iris, in halting speech, expressed how sorry she was for what she and her sister had done. Pearl started to sob quietly, and it almost broke Phoenix's heart. Maya kept quiet until Iris was done, and replied that she understood it was all Dahlia. Revenge is a blind monster that is difficult to stop until everything is destroyed in its path, even itself. Iris shook her head. She could have stopped her. She could have taken everything she had to tame the beast within Dahlia. In letting it run loose, she was as guilty as her sister.

Phoenix cleared his throat. Let him defend her in her trial. He might get her a lighter sentence, if not acquitted altogether. Maya and Pearl looked to Iris hopefully.

She only took a short while to consider. Then, placing her hands on her lap, she replied.

"It's all right, Feenie. This is something I have to face myself. I know I can never make it up to you," she looked at Maya, "what I have done is too terrible to ask for your forgiveness, so please let me atone for my sins this way. I will gladly accept whatever punishment the judge would give me."

Maya pulled her hands into balls of fists, "Sister Iris, you don't have to do this. I don't want you to, and neither does Pearly."

"The sinful must repent. For our unlawful doings, I cannot think of a better way. I am doing this for the sake of my sister's soul as well."

"Iris…" Phoenix was getting desperate. He tried to come up with something – _anything_ – to change her decision, but nothing came to mind. He let out a sigh, "Is there really nothing I-we can do?"

Iris pondered for a moment. "I know Pearl is in good hands. I don't have to worry about my little sister with Mystic Maya around. But, could you take care of Sister Bikini for me? She'll be all alone in Hazakura Temple, and with her back..."

"Don't worry, we'll go visit Sister Bikini as many times as we can. I have a mind to try out all her super spiritual training packages! Nick's coming with us too," Maya assured.

_What? Who said anything about –_

"We'll visit Sister Bikini as often as we could, but I never promised anything about spiritual trainings!" Phoenix countered.

Maya made a face at him.

Iris let out a smile, "Thank you. That is all I need to hear."

###

Phoenix somehow knew Godot would refuse to meet them in the detention center. Even when Maya and Pearl put on their most sincere looks for the guard to try again, the white-haired man would not appear.

Maya looked downhearted, "Why wouldn't he see us?"

Phoenix kinda knew the answer, but he didn't say it out.

"We're leaving today, and I don't know if I can find time to come back here soon. I still want to thank him..." Maya stared at the empty chair in the other room.

"He could probably tell me more about sis and mom too..."

###

The sun had risen high up in the sky when they came out from the detention center. Walking away from the building, Maya's stomach suddenly growled loud enough to startle Phoenix.

"Was that you? But you had four hamburgers this morning! Do you have an extra stomach or something?"

Maya rubbed her stomach, "I have _two_ extra stomachs, actually. One for hamburgers and another for ramen. Besides, I'm a growing girl, I need my nutritions."

_If she doesn't stop growing soon, she might cause global famish at the rate she's eating...Should I also be worried that she was only released from hospital yesterday?_

"Speaking of ramen, I suddenly developed a craving for Eldoon's. Wanna go?" the teenager asked, as she bobbed up and down enthusiastically, her topknot dancing along with her rhythm.

Phoenix let out a sigh. "Only because it's gentle on my wallet."

Maya gave him a cheeky grin and happily grabbed Pearl's hand, already leading the way.

He turned and was ready to follow when the theme of _The Steel Samurai_ went off in Phoenix's pocket. Fishing his cellphone out, he was surprised to see it was from Edgeworth.

"Edgeworth?" he asked into his phone.

"Wright...I apologize for the suddenness, but something's come up and I'm required back in Germany."

"Oh...When?" Phoenix felt his heart sink. The girls were very curious but they stayed quiet.

"My flight's tomorrow morning-"

"You're leaving tomorrow morning? You've gotta be kidding me!" Phoenix looked at his watch. It was already a quarter to twelve. He tried to mentally count the hours left before Edgeworth's flight but his harried mind wouldn't cooperate.

"Again, I'm sorry. If you really want to meet up, would tonight be all right? I'm currently on my way to visit Detective Gumshoe…"

"Fine," Phoenix cut in, disgruntled, before realizing he had been acting pretty rude to the guy. He noticed the girls were now looking at him concernedly. Suddenly conscious of his behavior, he walked a few steps away from the girls. He couldn't help feeling a bit guilty for snapping at Edgeworth several times.

The other man had kept quiet for the entire duration. Phoenix calmed himself down before continuing.

"Look, Edgeworth, I'm sorry I sound like I want to bite your head off, which I really do right now, actually," he could almost see the man wince on the other side of the phone. His old friend could be fearless in court, but outside of workplace the man was probably the most socially-inept person he had ever known. The guy was probably worried stiff, wondering if he had actually angered Phoenix.

The defense attorney scratched the back of his head before returning his attention to his cellphone, "Okay, so tonight at nine. There's this new place that opened up around the area. Let me give you the location…"

The phone call ended on a brighter note, and he forced himself to smile as he walked back to the girls who were worried as well.

"Everything okay, Nick?" Maya asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I have a hankering for some ramen now too, so let's go," he remembered to use a happier tone as he herded the girls along.

But he still felt like the whole damn world enjoyed kicking him in the shin and stabbing him in the back.

_Maybe I've been cursed by someone I put away or something. Why isn't anything working right?_

Author's note: This chapter took longer than expected. I'm getting used to my daily routine, so here's hoping I can update sooner. Thanks again for everyone taking the time to read and review :)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

**Chapter 5**

Edgeworth put away his handphone. The mood of the conversation had turned friendlier towards the end, which brought him some relief. For a short moment there he thought he might actually had angered his old friend. It wasn't his intention to incur his wrath in the first place. But then again, he seemed to be upsetting people everywhere he went.

_What are these 'social skills' people talk of and why in the world do I seem to lack them?_

The cab he was in was making a smooth drive towards the local police precinct, where he promised to meet up with Detective Gumshoe. The silence of the cab (he paid the driver to turn off the radio and shut his mouth for the entire course of the drive) gave him time to think about the events from the day before.

Why ever did he agree to meet up with Wright? And Gumshoe, for that matter?

Of course, there was that promise to a certain defense attorney that he would treat Gumshoe to a decent meal…He _was_ partly responsible for the detective's nearly non-existent salary.

Wright, on the other hand…as much as he thought highly of the man, he was happy with their current relationship - it was too precious to destroy through the act of getting closer, which he was convinced he would do - he did not delight in the thought of the man getting near to his core self. It would be too dark and twisted for the man's sake. He did not want to be guilty of tainting the man with his demons.

But there would always be a part of him that wanted more. The part that often wandered back to his childhood memory in search of what he used to have with Larry and…Phoenix. The part that always tries to surface whenever he was caught off guard, and the part that he would always try to suppress when the shock reeled him back.

When the huge building that was the police station loomed near, he stopped all relevant thoughts.

The station would always be bustling with activity, from the days when he was still a district prosecutor to the last few days, when he was occupied with Iris's trial. The personnel there knew him more or less, and some gave a polite acknowledgement to his presence. Others were giving him the evil eye, Miles was sure, given his past history within the precinct.

"Mr Edgeworth!"

The loud yell couldn't had come from anyone else. The familiar ragged coat, the familiar boom of the voice. Miles watched as the bumbling detective practically jumped from his desk and steamroll his way over. He knocked over a few people's paperwork from their desks, earning himself some amount of verbal lashing, but he was soon beside Miles.

"You might want to work on your grace and agility, detective," the prosecutor extended a finger towards the epicentre.

Gumshoe turned towards the direction Miles was pointing at. His colleagues were all on the floor picking up dropped paperwork and stationery while cursing at him. One even shook a fist at him. Gumshoe gave a sorry look as he scratched his neck, and then heartily laughed, "Oh, they won't mind much, Mr Edgeworth! I'm sure they're used to it already!"

Miles snorted, "They have my condolences." He turned towards the front door, "Shall we?"

Gumshoe gave the widest grin that Miles had ever seen, "Where are we going, sir?"

The younger man led the way. "We're going to a restaurant I used to dine in when I was still a prosecutor here. It's within walking distance. I hope you have no aversion to French cuisine?"

Gumshoe followed beside, "Uh, I like French fries, so I guess it'll be fine."

_French fries…? There're so many contradictions there that I don't even know where to start! _

_...Why do I even bother._

People say 'familiarity breeds contempt', but Miles is a habitual creature. He had never liked surprises – they ruin his perfect schedules and plans - and so would always be grateful that some things stay the same, just as the sun rising and setting every day, and Gumshoe talking incessantly.

The detective was busy recounting how the station had finally taken to the Blue Badger as their mascot, when they've finally reached the restaurant - a lone building standing amongst a grove of trees. It was exactly the absurdity of the location and the tranquility the trees provided (in the midst of bustling Los Angeles as well, no less) that had him returning again and again. The food was not bad either.

Though it had been a year since his last visit there, the building looked the same as before. Mostly. Had the front door been replaced? The colour was definitely not green the last time he came. The maître d' welcomed both gentlemen, and Miles was sure he wasn't the familiar face from a year ago. He turned his head around to make sure Gumshoe was all right and caught him mouthing something as he stared at the sign.

_Probably trying to read the name. Good luck with that._

It was only then that he noticed the sign was different as well. It still read the same name – _Sérénité dans une Plantation Olive_ - but the background colour was now green. It used to be red.

The maître d' – much younger than the previous one, but looked every part an experienced and capable man, Miles mused - led them to their booth. By then, the change with the interior no longer surprised him. He presumed the restaurant had changed hands, and it was confirmed by the maître d'. A waiter was assigned to their booth, and Miles took the menu that was handed to him. He frowned a little to see it was a different one from before, which usually meant that a different head chef would be in charge of the kitchen. If the quality of the food had so much dropped an iota, he would never return, though it would be a shame to forsake the beautiful place. But such is life. Things change, and Miles hated that.

After skimming through the menu, Miles ordered a few favorite dishes of his in lilting French. He took a quick glance at his companion, and it was clear the older man needed assistance. With his leave, he ordered for Gumshoe, knowing the man would probably end up stabbing whichever name he could at least make out on the menu rather than selecting a meal he likes. The waiter took down their orders and left with a curt nod.

"Gee, Mr Edgeworth...you don't have to treat me to a fancy meal, ya know? It was a pleasure working with you again," Gumshoe was absolutely beaming.

Miles leaned back on the plush, green seat (how he missed the old red ones) and crossed his arms, "I believe I owe you a few meals, for keeping everything in my office in place for me in my absence."

Gumshoe stammered some pleasantries - "It was an honour, sir!" "I don't mind it at all, sir!" - as the waiter delivered their glasses of water and bread.

After the waiter left a second time, Gumshoe lapsed into an unfamiliar silence. Miles shifted uncomfortably. Carrying on a conversation was not one of his skills.

The detective finally spoke as he picked up a loaf of bread and munched on it, "The precinct's in chaos right now, Mr Edgeworth. Yesterday's trial was a shock to all of us."

Miles picked up a piece of bread and spread butter on it.

"I may not be the brightest bulb, but even I can see that the DA office's barely holding up. With you abroad, sir, they need every capable prosecutor they can get. But Miss von Karma's back to Germany too, and that Godot guy is..." – he risked looking at Miles for a second. The prosecutor was eating his bread in the most elegant way- "They're getting some new blood in, and I heard that one of them is promising, at least - a rockstar or something - but they don't have the experience, sir!"

Miles had certainly heard of the rockstar-cum-prosecutor prodigy.

_If his brother of a defense attorney were any indication to his personality, somebody at the higher up had certainly been lax on quality._

"When will you be coming back, Mr Edgeworth? And maybe Miss von Karma...?"

Miles took a drink of water as he tried to come up with an answer. Gumshoe waited expectantly, but Miles could not think of a reply. Soon the silence dragged itself out, as the detective scratched his neck, and had long since given up for an answer.

Now that the detective had mentioned it, Miles's mind wandered to yesterday's trial. It had turned out to be as mind-twisting as his own trial two years ago. It seemed like Wright knew more about Dahlia Hawthorne, Sister Iris and Prosecutor Godot than he had let on in court, and he had half the mind to dig the truth out of him, if he could help it. The way he looked at Sister Iris when he thought no one was watching; the way they interacted after the conclusion of her murder trial—how Iris blushed when she said something to him (which Miles was regrettably out of ear-shot), and how devastated Wright looked when the bailiff came for her.

His thought was interrupted as their appetizers were brought to the table. Detective Gumshoe looked hopelessly at the dishes, unsure if any etiquettes were to be observed with dishes so foreign to him—a plate of shells on a fancy plate, and the other a bowl of salad, only it looked much prettier and classier than the coleslaws he occasionally had at the diners.

Miles took one of the shells in a snail tong, "This is _escargot_, I take it you have not tried it before. Let me show you how it's eaten." He picked up the snail fork and skillfully pulled the meat out. With a look of his eyes, he motioned for Gumshoe to follow suit.

Hesitantly, the burly man imitated the procedure of taking the snail out, but took a couple of seconds before putting the foreign delicacy into his mouth. It only took a second, however, for his face to lit up in astonishment.

"It's quite good, sir!"

"I would imagine so," Miles replied before eating his escargot. The detective was right, it was quite delectable. He savoured it for a while before swallowing.

"Actually, detective, no etiquette is required with a simple lunch with a colleague. Please have your food in any way you're most comfortable with."

Gumshoe grinned the goofy way he does and nodded.

Miles reached over for the S_alade Caesar_. "How are the proceedings on Sister Iris and Prosecutor Godot cases, for the time being?"

Gumshoe remembered to swallow before opening his mouth, "They're charging her as an accomplice in a premeditated murder, which she admitted in court yesterday. I don't think she's found a defense attorney yet..."

"I'd imagine Phoenix Wright to be her best option." He examined his plate of salad. It looked and smelled good enough.

"I think so too, sir. But there's no news about it. Prosecutor Godot's trial is set for next week, I think. Do you want me to check later?"

"No, that's all right. No word on the prosecutor and the defense attorney?" He took a bite of the salad.

"Nope, though I heard from Danny that he's probably gonna represent himself in court. He's refusing defense service offered to him so far. Are you gonna go for the trial, sir?"

"...I don't think I'll be around by then. You will fill me in with the details, won't you?" Amazingly, the food was better than before. As much as he loath changes, perhaps some might be better than the rest. The restaurant was certainly worth revisiting again in the future.

Gumshoe beamed, "Of course, Mr Edgeworth! You can count on me!"

Their waiter carried their entrées over at that moment. Gumshoe eyed the ornate dishes intently, which amused Miles a little. The prosecutor had ordered _Poulet au Porto _for the detective, as he thought chicken would be good as an introduction. He had _Saumon Grill__é._ As the waiter left them with their food, Miles picked up his fork and knife, and cocked an eyebrow to the detective, "This, detective, is _real_ French cuisine. Enjoy yourself."

Gumshoe picked up his utensils, "You don't have to tell me twice, sir!"

As the detective chomped on his first mouthful, he suddenly remembered what he had wanted to ask badly.

"Mr Edgeworth, can you teach me how to woo a woman?"

The prosecutor promptly choked on his food.

Author's note: I have no idea about French dining. I could have chosen Chinese, but it has to be French because of the terrible food in Trés Bien. The detective derserves better! So if anyone spots a problem with the story, please tell me! I am eternally grateful (ala the three aliens in Toy Story 3)!

And thanks for reading this :)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 6

The girls were hugging him for so long, Phoenix thought they were about to grow roots on him. Reluctantly, he broke the hug and reminded Maya and Pearl that they could visit anytime. It wasn't as if they wouldn't be seeing each other ever again. With the faces that the girls were pulling then, one would have thought otherwise. The attorney let out a small sigh, as he gave them both another hug.

They all know that it wasn't the distance that was separating them – it was Maya's new responsibility as the Master of Kurain. The village elders wouldn't be happy if she were to hop on a train out of Kurain Village every other day.

Finally deciding that they had hugged long enough, Phoenix let go of the girls and guided them to the ticket gates. Taking the cue, the girls hesitantly made their way to the train platform, while waving fervently at him. He waved back. Both parties continued shouting and waving goodbyes until the girls rounded a corner and was out of sight.

Putting his arm down, he frowned a little. He had originally planned to accompany them back to Kurain Village, then come home the next day before the rituals of the reinstatement of the new Master of Kurain would start, as outsiders were not welcomed during village rituals. The call from Edgeworth had his entire planning down the drain. He knew that setting their meeting at nine meant that he had to get back from Kurain as soon as he dropped the girls safely off to the Fey Manor, but he had never considered that it would be very exhausting to take a four-hour train ride forth and back. At least, not until Maya pointed it out to him. Hell, he was a guy who crossed bridges when he came to them, which he literally did with one just a few days ago. Planning ahead wasn't really his forte. He felt foolish when Maya laughed and patted him on his back, and made up his mind for him to stay behind. The two girls had been taking train rides up and down Kurain for god knows how many times by then, they could take care of themselves just fine. He was reluctant at first, but Maya put her feet down. Who knows when Mr Edgeworth might come back after this. They should have some nice, private time together before his departure, she reasoned, and not without adding a wink for god-knows-what reason.

Come to think of it, Miles Edgeworth had managed to screw up a lot of his plan. They were supposed to finish elementary school, then graduate from high school together. That didn't happen. Then, Phoenix was supposed to graduate from Ivy University with an arts degree, but Edgeworth's picture on the newspaper changed everything. Later, the same man pinned himself to the murder of his own father when Phoenix was so close to acquitting him from another murder, then feigned suicide and disappeared for a whole year, just when the attorney finally thought he had had his friend back. For God's sake, the man came back a year later with that smug grin on his face like no one's business, when Phoenix thought he had finally gotten over the man's alleged "death". Dead people don't suddenly come back alive and kicking, then go into awesome mode to save the day! And what's so great about Europe anyway, that Edgeworth would want to forget about LA and stay at the stupid place, when they should be catching up on lost years – and no, emails don't shorten distances, not with someone like _Edgeworth_. Finally – _finally _– when he managed to get a hold of Edgeworth for a few days before his stupid flight back, shit happened.

The epiphany that he had _that_ much pent-up frustration over the man awed him. Heck, he could have just gone to Kurain with the girls and continue fraternizing with the bastard through email, for all he cared. He could have, if Maya didn't insist he go meet up with him.

Stupid, stupid Miles Edgeworth.

He knew he was being childish. But reality sucked and deserved to be kicked in the ass once in a while.

_Maya and Pearls are all right now, so stop worrying about them._

Finally realizing he had stood rooted to the same spot for a while, he turned away towards the bus station.

He would be meeting Edgeworth in less than six hours.

Phoenix was early. As he stood outside of _Blue Notes_, the bar they had agreed to meet in, he contemplated whether he should just go in and vegetate on a barstool, instead of standing on the sidewalk and freezing his butt off. He also hadn't fully recovered from his cold, and he'd appreciate it if that short tete-a-tete with the cold weather wouldn't offset it again. In a weird way, he wished for Edgeworth to be late, just so he could lay the blame on him when he did arrive, preferably minutes past their agreed time. His anger from that afternoon hadn't entirely dissipated.

_Five minutes oughta do it. Any longer and he'll probably have to meet me in a hospital instead._

He groaned a little as he saw a cab pull in front of him and out stepped his long time friend. Miles Edgeworth was punctual, as always. He wasn't sure why, but he half-expected to see his friend showing up in that expensive-looking, burgundy suit and white...thing-around-his-neck – _A cravat? A jabot? Whatever it is, it's so last century –_ but no, the prosecutor wasn't wearing none of that. He was wearing – and Phoenix couldn't believe that he was actually _examining_ the man's clothes - a black, expensive-looking leather jacket, and underneath it, a light pink, buttoned-down, and probably expensive shirt, which was neatly tucked into fit-cutting, expensive-looking pants.

He was suddenly convinced that he'd rather be stripped naked than letting the man see his own rags. Even though his worn-out t-shirt, faded jeans and gray hoodie jacket were the only defence of his against pneumonia.

_Damn rich bastard. His wardrobe probably worths more than what I make in a decade._

He didn't realize he was still staring until the man stood right in front of him, cocking an eyebrow.

"Are you assessing my clothes, Wright?"

Phoenix could feel his ears burning up.

"N-no!" - damn his stuttering, he was supposed to feel angry towards the man, not embarassing himself – "I was only wondering what took you so long!" – _real smooth, Phoenix_ – Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door to the pub and ushered his friend in.

Once inside, he saw Edgeworth take a look at his watch – expensive too, no doubt – but the prosecutor said nothing. The man probably realized Phoenix was trying to bluff his way through as always, but unlike in court, Edgeworth didn't point it out.

Phoenix led the way to the bar as Edgeworth took in the surrounding. At least the man hadn't shown contempt yet. From the moment Phoenix first stepped into the place, he knew he'd have to show it to his friend sometime. He didn't know exactly what the man's taste was like, but the place had to be close enough. He was working only on a hunch, but he figured Edgeworth might enjoy some jazz music. The patrons here were mostly people of class, something Phoenix related to his old friend. Coupled with classy furniture and soft lighting, the pub should be identical to the establishments Edgeworth might frequent, if he did have a life outside of work.

"So, what'd you think of the place?" Phoenix settled on a barstool as Edgeworth took the one on his right. "Good enough for your majesty?" he asked with a smirk.

If Edgeworth had looked cautious a moment ago, he definitely looked much relaxed then. In fact, his infuriating smug look had returned as he tutted, "Well done. At least you prove you have better taste than I normally gave you credit."

_Someone remind me why I asked this guy out again._

A bartender got around before he could come up with a brilliant comeback, which he was sure he would in...sometime around the century. Definitely.

"What can I get you two?" the portly man asked with a smile.

"A Budweiser, thanks," Phoenix answered without looking, his eyes fixing a death glare at his companion.

Edgeworth didn't even take notice, "Martini, please."

When the bartender left the two of them, Phoenix was still trying to burn a hole through Edgeworth's skull. The latter must have finally noticed, as he shifted a bit while trying to ignore his companion's glare. All that glaring finally paid off as Edgeworth turned towards him.

"You are making me uncomfortable."

"You deserve it. I hope you realize how much I have to give up for you."

This couldn't be the best way to start the evening, Phoenix thought guiltily as he watched the silver-haired man get flustered. He finally averted his glance.

"Sorry, that was the residual anger from this afternoon talking," he ran a hand through his hair, taking his time to calm his nerves. "That was pretty ungrateful of me, running my mouth off like that to someone who crossed the Atlantic Ocean for me."

He heard Edgeworth clearing his throat before answering, "...You would do the same for me too."

"No, I won't."

His blunt answer gained a large reaction from the normally stoic prosecutor. The man was practically getting red before Phoenix's eyes. He chuckled.

"I would first get my information from another source other than Larry Butz, andonly _then_ would I clear out what little is left in my bank account to charter a private jet to get to where you are, regardless of how you were doing."

The redness spread all over the prosecutor's face and neck – Phoenix is mildly astounded that he was seeing Edgeworth's neck since a very long time – and not only did it not fade, it even had increased in intensity as he stammered, "W-well, Larry made the situation sound a lot worse! He had me believe you were about to die!" Edgeworth glared at his fingers, "...and I forgot to kill the imbecile before I leave tomorrow."

Phoenix laughed good-naturedly. Already he felt much better compared to that afternoon about his friend. He could never hold a grudge for too long.

That and being grateful he didn't have pale skin.

The bartender returned with both their drinks. As both lawyers silently held up their drinks to their mouth, surprisingly it was Edgeworth who broke the silence.

"How are both Miss Feys?"

"You mean Maya and Pearls?" There was that uneasy feeling in his gut again. He ignored most of it. "They seem fine, but…I get this feeling that Maya's just putting on a strong face for Pearls, and Pearls just wants to make Maya happy. I don't think it's healthy for them to pent their feelings in." Phoenix took a swig of his beer, but promptly made a face.

"Something wrong?" Edgeworth noticed.

"Nah…it's just this beer. It's bitterer than I remembered."

The silver-haired man managed a chuckle, "I guess beer really does taste bitterer when you're having a less than perfect day."

Phoenix snorted, before taking another gulp and grimacing again.

"If it's really that bad-"

"It's fine," Phoenix cut him off, "It's Maya and Pearls I'm more worried about. They're too young to lose the people closest to them, especially not in this way."

"I know the feeling all too well."

Phoenix spun his head around. Edgeworth's face was neutral, but he couldn't help feeling he was inadvertently peeling off scabs around his best friend's old wound.

"And how are you feeling?" the prosecutor continued.

The question took Phoenix aback for a moment. He had been concerning himself with the people around him, that he never had the time to think about himself.

"I'm...fine," he gulped a mouthful of beer down distractingly. With every mouthful he took, the beer became easier to down.

"If there's anything I can help with..."

"Everything's fine and dandy, Edgeworth. Quit worrying," he tried to smile to reinforce the idea. He was starting to get uncomfortable with their roles reversed. Normally he was the one badgering people and his friend was the snappy one.

Edgeworth look unconvinced. He was looking at Phoenix the way he looked at witnesses who didn't tell the whole truth in court. Phoenix could actually feel him boring through his skull, as he pretended to down the rest of the beer nonchalantly. Finally Edgeworth looked away. If there was something on his mind, he let it slide. Phoenix took the chance to order another beer. It was also the perfect time to change the topic.

"Uh, so where is that whippy-happy sister of yours?" Phoenix gave a nod to the bartender as he was handed his beer.

"Probably reaching Frankfurt International Airport right now," Miles answered with a sip of his Martini.

"Frankfurt...? Germany?" Phoenix was shocked.

"We were talking about this last night. Didn't you hear?"

Phoenix shook his head, "Maya's voice probably drowned out your conversation. She can be a bit loud when she's excited."

Miles had an amused expression on his face. "Well, Franziska said she couldn't stand being in this 'foolishly foolish place' any longer than necessary. I can only take another day off as well."

Phoenix's face however, wore a frown. "What happened? I thought you had until the weekend."

Edgeworth let out a small sigh, "The court rescheduled one of the cases I'm overseeing, apparently on the request of one of the senators. You know how bigwigs love interfering in everyone's business."

Phoenix grimaced as a memory of a certain pink-suited blackmailer _splendiferously_ flashed across his mind.

"Hear, hear." He held out his glass, and Edgeworth gently clinked his own against it.

"So," he continued as he swallowed the beer, as his friend did so with his Martini, "what exactly is it that you two do over there?"

"What do you mean 'what exactly do we do'? Isn't 'upholding the truth' good enough for you?" the prosecutor snorted while shaking his head.

That made Phoenix laugh, "C'mon, it's been ages since we last shoot the breeze. Any updates?"

"Not much. Franziska's still a district prosecutor in Frankfurt, and still one of the best. However, I suspect she's working on something big. She seems to be very secretive about it though. As for me, I am making progress in my studies. Participating in a few of the cases there really helped."

_Figures that he would answer my question with work. But look how animated he is when he's talking about law!_

"How's the justice system in Europe?" Phoenix continued with the topic. An excited Edgeworth is not a thing you see everyday.

"It's...different. They're still using the jurist system. Do you still remember the jurist system?"

At that point, Phoenix noted that Edgeworth had a glint in his eyes.

"Yeah. I was still in college when they abolished the system. But I have seen them in old lawyer movies," Phoenix answered.

His old friend was practically alive with excitement, in Edgeworth's funny little way.

"As a lawyer, it does make the job challenging. It's not enough to just present evidence, you have to make convincing statements for the jurists to see the truth. Granted, the jurists are made up of civilians who are easily manipulated if you know which strings to pull, but they do provide the human emotions that are profoundly missing from the American courtroom."

Law was a good topic to talk about with Edgeworth. He should have done this more often.

"I get what you mean. I would have lost many cases now if not for the evidence popping out at the very last moment. The only thing restricting me from showing the truth is always the right evidence."

"Well then," a smirk appeared on the prosecutor's face, "aren't you glad you have a continuous supply of dumb luck in your possession?"

Phoenix pulled a face. "Very funny, Edgeworth."

The silver-haired man was actually rubbing his chin in a typical 'thinking face', "I don't know...running across a burning bridge is considered dumb by most people; falling thirty feet into fast-flowing ice water and emerging with nothing more serious than a cold, I'd say you were incredibly lucky."

_My life's been more like a cosmic joke, actually._

"Anyway," Phoenix interjected, "I think handing that much power to a single person is dangerous. Who's to say the judge will be completely unbiased in his verdict? And not everything can be proven with evidence that would be so conveniently available."

"True, and evidence can be forged."

_Aren't we stepping into treacherous territory now?_

Edgeworth drank a little Martini and continued, "Manfred von Karma would have no qualms about it, as long as it gets the job done." He paused for a while, before adding softly, "In doing so, he turned himself into someone that was no less dishonorable than the criminals he was trying to prosecute."

Sometimes Phoenix wondered if he was allowed a glimpse of the man's past, if the man would indulge with him his history when he wasn't a part of it. If he could just fill in the blanks what made the man who he was, he might understand him better. Isn't that what friends are supposed to do? To understand and care about each other; to provide support when walls are crumbling down; to make merry time and laugh together?

_Edgeworth laughing, now that's something I can look forward to._

"How was it like to be in von Karma's family?" Perhaps it was the alcohol that gave him the courage to finally ask the question, but since they were already at the subject...

Edgeworth seemed to be thinking up reasons to avoid talking about his mentor, but instead, he started to tell of how he first ended up in the von Karma household, and how lonely and frightened he was there. He talked about how he studied under the man, and how he was always punished for forgetting proper conduct. He talked and talked, and it warmed the cockles of Phoenix's heart to hear for the first time what he was always imagining instead in his head, the truth of what happened. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or Edgeworth really opened up to him.

He'd like to think it was the latter, and for that moment, he felt like they were nine again, when Miles always talked about his ambitions and his father's case trials. He noticed that all the talk brought a smile to Miles's face as well.

Author's note: Oh man, talk about writer's block. This chapter took so long because I had to write this and the next chapter in one go, to make sure that the flow clicks. I have to apologize. So sorry! Orz. The next chapter will be up very soon since I've already got the backbones done. Cheers and thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 7

Miles was mildly surprised that the evening turned out more pleasant than he had imagined. Far used to being a man with few words outside of work, he found himself uncharacteristically carrying a conversation between himself and a friend he thought he would never find again. He was also intrigued that the other person could just sit there quietly and listen to his every words with utmost attention, a far cry from the chaotic energy he usually dealt with in court. Which goes to show how little he understood the man he called his friend.

When he had finished telling Wright of his past, he took a drink. His mouth had gone dry from the amount of talking. As the martini slowly slid down his throat, a part of his mind vaguely wondered what people would say about his seemingly out-of-character behaviour. Another part of his mind decided he would just blame it on the alcohol.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that the defense attorney was still looking at him eagerly. He was reminded of the time when they were still children, when Wright would often beg to listen to stories of his father in court. How had the grown man retained much of his innocence well past childhood was beyond him, but he did see a striking contrast between themselves.

When the prosecutor finally put the glass down, the other man had turned his attention to the beer in front of him, and was playing with the ear of the mug.

"Miles..."

The sound of his given name surprised him a little. Only his closest family members would address him that way. Coming from Wright, it sounded foreign and familiar at the same time.

The defense attorney tilted his head towards him and managed a small smile, "Can I call you Miles? You know, like old times?"

"...You called me Edgeworth when we were children."

"Well, yeah..." Wright's quirky eyebrows scrunched together, making its shape more absurb than it already was, "_You_ made us call you Edgeworth. In my mind you were always Miles."

He was brought back to innocent times, when 'work' meant school assignments and 'responsibility' meant being an honour student. Times he could never go back to.

"You know, Larry only called you 'Edgey' because he thought your name's a mouthful. Have some pity on the poor guy."

"Need I remind you that this same Larry also called you 'Nick' out of laziness? He would butcher any names regardless," he countered.

Wright laughed heartily, "Got me there. But there's something else I've been meaning to ask. You always call me 'Wright', but you call him 'Larry'. What's up with that? Does he rate higher than me in your heart?"

Miles backed off a bit as his friend leant closer while wearing a silly grin on his face. The man ought to be taught the virtues of 'personal space'.

"Don't spout nonsense, although you seem to have the knack for it. No one in their right mind would find pleasure in calling out his last name."

Wright's eyebrows scrunched together again, "What's wrong with Bu-...Oh," then they were raised high, "_Oh._"

_Has the man always have such ridiculous eyebrows? Why is it only now that I've noticed it?_

Miles muttered darkly, "Especially in public. Took you long enough to figure it out."

The defense attorney laughed again. Even his whole frame was shaking from mirth. Although he was not used to seeing the man laughing in front of him, his memories of a young Wright was almost identical. The same way he would throw his body, and the same hitch in breath at the same place, they were all still there. Wright laughing was a strangely pleasant thing to watch. The man was moping around so much those few days that he had thought he would not have the chance to experience it again before leaving.

"Oh, Miles..." the defense attorney called out his name again, as his laugh slowly died down, "You're a riot."

Miles scoffed at that remark, "No one has ever associated that with me before."

His laughter may have died down, but a satisfying smile still hung around his face. "That's because no one knows you better than I do."

The prosecutor was sure his martini was to blame. His face was burning. He felt so uncomfortable, that he decided to blurt out the first thing that came to mind.

"About Sister Iris..."

No, that didn't work as well as he thought. He could still feel his ears burning. And worse, it made Wright drop the smile on his face. Probably not the best thing to say, with hindsight.

"Yeah?"

Even Wright's tone had turned wary. Now he regretted saying her name. Though, a graceful save is what Miles Edgeworth does best.

"I heard from Detective Gumshoe that she hasn't appointed herself a defense attorney yet."

Wright frowned as his downed the last bit of his beer and ordered another. "She wasn't planning to, if that's what you're trying to ask."

"But, why? I thought she would have asked for your service."

Wright let his head sink into the fold of his arms on the table, his previous joyous mood completely evaporated.

"Nothing I said could change her mind. She's always been a stubborn woman..."

Miles waited for the bartender to put down Wright's beer and leave, vaguely recalling that that was his third while he was still on his first. He'd have to stop his friend from drinking anymore at some point, if he kept the pace on. Regardless if the person is an experienced drinker or not, drowning themselves with alcohol in times of sorrow is never a good idea.

"You seem to know her very well," Miles commented.

_They have a history between them. Should I press him on?_

He knew the secret that Sister Iris was harbouring. It was evident from the way she talked about Wright. At the same time, Wright was someone who wears his heart on his sleeve, so he could just as well make out the relationship between them. In his mind was a flurry of connecting info, each leading to an obvious conclusion. Perfect logic, if you will. What was left was only the confirmation...

Wright was deep in thought.

Miles realised that if he had wanted to know more about his friend's history, that was the perfect time to raise the question. If they were in court, he knew he would not have that moment of hesitation, and would press for more information relentlessly. However, tactfulness might be the proper option. Phoenix Wright was not a witness in court. He was a friend.

_Phoenix is…a friend._

To learn the truth and break the man in the process, or to be a friend and learn to back off?

"Phoenix, if you are feeling uncomfortable with this topic, then let us talk about something else."

There was a sudden change in the other's demeanour. He seemed to be elated by something, but whatever it was eluded Miles. It couldn't be that he was offering to change the topic. It would be silly to think that that would prompt a big reaction from the defense attorney, however easily amused the man is. He unconciously ran a hand over his face to check if there was something on his face.

The childish grin made its way back on his friend's face again, accompanied by a blush that slowly spread across from one ear to another. The grin slowly grew into a string of quiet laughter, and Phoenix was muttering between laughs, how the alcohol had gone up his head.

None of it made sense to Miles. None at all. There was definitely something off about the man.

"Are you drunk?"

Said man took a few seconds longer than needed to answer his question. "...Maybe?"

What was more off than the drunken attorney, was that _he_, the stoic prosecutor himself, was beginning to feel the upward pull of both sides of his lips. Franziska might be right. Phoenix's foolishness might be contagious.

Phoenix was staring at him with half a lopped grin on his face.

"What is it now?" Miles asked, as he attempted to curb his own growing smile.

"Don't do that," the man started to scrunch his eyebrows again, but the half-grin remained.

_Speaking in riddles now, Phoenix?_

"Don't do what?"

Phoenix seemed really upset by whatever Miles did, which for the life of him, couldn't find out what it was exactly.

The defense attorney straightened himself up, and with all seriousness, asked, "How many lawyers does it take to change a lightbulb?"

The sudden swerve of topic confused Miles greatly. "…Excuse me?"

"Two. One to change it and one to keep interrupting by standing up and shouting "Objection!"

Miles stared at Phoenix blankly.

Unperturbed, his companion continued, "How many lawyers does it take to screw in a light bulb?"

"I hope you're getting somewhere with this…" _Because_ _I sure don't know where you're driving at._

"None, lawyers only screw us…I mean, we only screw people…wait, that sounds wrong…"

Miles cocked an eyebrow at the man, who was busy fumbling around with his thoughts.

"What on earth are you trying to do?"

Phoenix took a sip of his beer before waving a hand, eyes averted, "Nothing. I was just trying to tell a few jokes."

"Jokes? Whatever for?" _Sometimes I just don't understand this man..._

Phoenix looked up at Miles, face blushing, before mumbling into his beer. Miles could hardly hear a word he was saying, and his weird antics, however charming they might be in the beginning, was beginning to tear at his patience.

"Wright, if you're that embarrassed about whatever stupidity that came out of your mouth, then don't -"

"Just thought that I haven't seen your smile in ages, that's all," Phoenix snapped back loudly, before returning to his safe haven in a beer glass, irritation written all over his face.

"-say it in the first...What?"

_What?_

The simple question had Phoenix set into an unstoppable rant about how Miles would always carry himself.

"You've always been a prude ever since we were kids..."

_No, I wasn't..._

"...you have this really short fuse..."

_No, I don't!_

"Wright-" Miles tried to interject, but Wright wasn't finished. In that aspect, Phoenix Wright was like a runaway train, never stopping until he hit a brick wall or ran out of tracks and catapult off a cliff.

"...your emails are way too formal between us..."

_It's called 'professionalism', look the word up in a dictionary._

"...and damn it, if you would just put down all those burdens you've been carrying around for all these years..."

Miles couldn't find a retort for that. When some things, even nightmares and self-loathing, have been a part of someone for more than seventeen years, it's hard to just let go and move on. It simply wasn't that easy to remove the parts that practically grew into him through all those years.

When he got no response from the silver-haired man, Phoenix sighed audibly as he ran a hand over his hair, with much of his earlier steam seemingly run out.

"You're taking your life too seriously. You should learn from Maya. The girl can find happiness in a hamburger and the ridiculous Steel Samurai."

Edgeworth could feel his left eyebrow twitch on its own.

"There's not much reason for me to, perhaps," he retorted hotly.

_The man lacked the fine eye to appreciate the noble values that have been endlessly praised for centuries and sung in songs, and found in every episode of the series – well, except for that strange episode where the writers must have written while smoking on trip-inducing substances. I hope every member on the team had read my letter regarding that episode - How dare he mock the Steel Samurai!_

As he seethed through the inner monologue, he finished his glass of martini in a gulp and slammed the glass on the counter. Almost immediately, he felt a pang of guilty by his childish behaviour. The night was turning out to be as dreadful as he feared it would.

He turned his head to the direction of his companion, only to be met by a pair of sorrowful blue eyes looking straight at him.

"Miles, I'm...I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me...I...", the man drew in breath and continued in a calmer voice, "This was supposed to be an enjoyable night out with one of my closest friends. I didn't mean to lose temper."

Miles let out his breath shakily. He couldn't have his friend blame himself entirely for the night. God knows he was responsible for their predicament as well, but he wasn't up for an apologizing session.

"It's...late. My flight is early tomorrow, so maybe we should just call it a night."

_I can't deal with this any longer. Let's just go our separate ways and give some time to clear our heads._

"Yeah..." Phoenix replied distractedly, eyes trained to a spot.

Miles paused for a second, as his friend seemed to be contemplating something, but Phoenix didn't look as though he was going to share. Mildly annoyed, Miles got out of his seat, "I think I may need to use the restroom for a second. I'll be right back, and then we can leave."

As he made his way towards the restroom, and turned his head around, he saw that Phoenix was still looking at the same particular spot.

Author's note: I think I lied when I said this chapter would be up soon. Well actually it was almost done, but I didn't have time for proof-reading. I think I should have my own apologizing session too. I'm sorry!

I purposefully made some things vague in this chapter, because it is from Miles's point of view and he's not exactly the sharpest person in relationship stuff regarding himself. I mean, if someone can fail to notice the frothing female masses that worship the ground he walks on, then I have no faith in his social skills. Oh, Miles, you blissfully ignorant idiot.

But then again, I hope it's not because I have sucky story-telling skills.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 8

Phoenix couldn't believe himself.

_I...am the world's biggest idiot._

His best friend would be leaving early next morning, and he had managed to screw everything up right before their parting. His muddled brain rewinded to the moment before everything spiraled down the drain.

_Wanted to see his smile, my foot. His billion dollar smile ruined everything. _

What was so great about Miles's smile anyway, that he became obsessed with it for that few minutes? Apart from the fact that the genuine ones were always kept from sight, and also that it made Phoenix's stupid heart jump ecstatically upon spotting one of them. It felt like a privilege that his friend was granting him, a rare moment that the walls erected around him was taken down for a second, to let him touch the real Miles Edgeworth that he had always known.

At that moment when Miles nearly smiled, he almost thought that his old friend had finally chosen to trust in him again. But the smile wasn't for him. It was withheld, and Phoenix panicked. What he thought he could gain back, was never given in the end.

His reflection on the counter quietly mocked him, and he meekly submitted, his eyes unable to avert from the agonizing look it was giving him.

He eyed the almost empty beer mug on the countertop, and found it fascinating that he could hardly focus anymore. Steadying his head with one hand, he closed his eyes and exhaled.

He'd probably had three mugs already. He couldn't remember clearly. It's crazy how he still couldn't take alcohol well, even after surviving college with nights puking in hallways from binge-drinking with his coursemates.

And yet, the haze forming in his mind was soothing in a weird kinda way. It kind of dampened out the frustation and worry that had been eating at him for the past few days.

He struggled to open his eyes. The beer mug looked pretty with rainbow colors sparkling at him.

The beer mug seemed to be beckoning for one last drink, so he relented. It was as bitter as his first mouthful.

Great. Now the beer mug looked sad, being empty.

Phoenix pushed the beer mug away. He'd had enough of looking after the feelings of a glass mug.

_I wonder how are the girls doing..._

Maya texted him about their reaching Kurain safely that evening, before meeting with Miles. He texted a reply before, but now he just missed their voices. Figuring he could make a quick call to the girls then, he dugged around his pants and fished out his battered cellphone. Seeing a blinking text message icon on his phone, he checked and saw that it was from Maya. It was sent half an hour ago, probably while he and Miles were still enjoying themselves. A rush of panic came over him, as thoughts of the girls in danger – _Did they lost Pearls? Did a person get killed and Maya is accused of the murder, again?_ – flooded his mind, while he fumbled to read the message.

Preparations r BORING! How is ur date with Edgeworth? I hope u didnt say anything stupid!

He slammed his cellphone on the counter heavily.

Alcohol wasn't helping. He probably should stop drinking and just go to bed and call the girls tomorrow because he was starting to have illogical thoughts about them getting into trouble every minute they're left alone and _what the hell is this weird feeling I keep getting? _He probably should stop drinking. Everything in the pub was starting to swim.

Honestly, with the direction their rendezvous swerved to in the end, the defense attorney was a little surprised that the prosecutor hadn't just decided to storm off and leave him to rot there, alone in the bar. At least, that was what the old Edgeworth would do.

Wait. Was Miles actually worried about leaving poor, drunken him alone in the bar? Well, he was intoxicated - just slightly, or to be honest, he probably couldn't walk a straight line anymore – but there's no reason for him to not being able to reach his own house safely.

Hold it. Did Prosecutor Edgeworth really think that him, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, would be so incompetent to get home on his own? Patronizing him in court was one thing, but coddling him out here too?

Anger burned inside him as he worked out his reasoning. The bastard probably never looked at him as an equal.

Miles's empty martini glass looked classy and refined, as it stood proudly on the countertop, a few inches away from his own beer mug. It's no wonder the man would go for the prim-looking drink. Phoenix bet the man wouldn't be caught dead holding a bottle of local beer. He'd probably felt that beers were too crass for a sophisticated man as him. The more Phoenix thought about it, the more he felt as if the cocktail glass was looking down on the stout beer mug.

"You're not that high and mighty. I bet you taste just as bad as that beer. Even when you have a higher alcohol content, and an olive..."

He would have been content to be able to take it out on the cocktail glass, but it only took him a few more seconds to realize, that dear God, he was talking to a cocktail glass. He really should stop drinking.

He raised his head and looked all around him. Nobody noticed his earlier antics, except maybe their bartender, who was eyeing him sideways while fixing another customer her drink. Oh hell, it couldn't be the first time he's had a half-drunk customer talking to inanimate objects. But since they've already locked eyes...

"Bartender, a martini please!"

The bartender laughed quietly to himself, and nodded.

Phoenix ignored the fact that the bartender was definitely laughing at him. What was more important was showing Miles that he was no helpless teetotaler. He'd show him that he can fully keep his liquor and get home in one piece.

A wailful sound came from the speakers of the pub, and Phoenix recognized it as a _glissando _of a clarinet, from one of the most famous pieces written by the great American composer, Gershwin, _Rhapsody in Blue_. Imagine that. He was halfway drunk, and yet he could clearly name the song currently playing. Those hours spent tinkering away on a piano when he was young weren't a waste after all. Funny thing about the piano was, he only started learning it after Miles left school. He was moping around for so long that his mother was worried sick, and subsequently sent him for piano classes, just to distract him. He didn't mind the classes. They were actually fun. And it did help with coping with Miles's absence.

Which reminded him, he hadn't touched a piano for over a decade.

The playful way the piece is written always tickled him. It sounded like the story of a man caught in a black comedy he couldn't get out of. The violins bowed; the man struggled against life's unending curveball thrown at him. Day in, day out. The protaganist certainly was adamant on going against waves.

_Probably 'cause he's a knucklehead like me._

"Your martini, sir," the bartender gave a little smile as he put the drink down.

Same arrogant cocktail glass. Is there a law saying that martini has to be served in an arrogant-looking cocktail glass?

Phoenix grabbed the glass and poured the contents down his throat in one big gulp, and munched on the olive menacingly. Just as expected, it tasted horrible.

The bartender was still standing behind the bar, gaping at him.

"Gimme another one!"

Apparently the bartender was a little pissed at the raven-haired patron for wasting good liquor. "Sir, that's not how you drink martini..."

"Objection! I'll drink it any way I want to. Another glass, now!"

He paused for a second.

"And place all my drinks on my friend's bill!"

Author's note: A drunk Phoenix is much more difficult to write than I imagined O.O


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 9

Miles Edgeworth stepped out of the restroom cubicle, approached the basin with a few quick steps, and proceeded to washing his hand meticulously, all actions sperformed robotically. He took comfort in the familiarity of the steps.

Raising his eyes to meet the tired face looking back at him in the mirror, he frowned.

"Behave."

He glared at his reflection for a few seconds, before softening his gaze. Behave, indeed. He didn't have the slightest clue on how to behave in front of Phoenix, that's for sure. Phoenix is unlike any of his associates. At least, he didn't have to walk on eggshells around them, as they were comfortable with just making small talks, while he listened. Phoenix Wright, on the other hand, expected _real _conversations. Heavens know Miles had lost that ability years ago! Moreover, the man wore his heart on his sleeves. _Who does that anymore?_ He couldn't even go more than three sentences before checking himself, because Phoenix made a face that meant he'd probably chosen the wrong words. If there was anybody with a face as easy to read as Detective Gumshoe, it had to be Phoenix Wright.

Gershwin's _Rhapsody in Blue _was still playing through the tiny speakers mounted above the washing basins. The energetic piano solo playing then contrasted greatly with his dour mood. Being more of a Baroque and Classical period music lover himself, he found little love for the eccentricity of Modern period music. However, that particular piece found its way into his heart, partially because it reminded him of his friend. Upbeat and hectic, the piece summed Phoenix up perfectly. Oh, hear how the protagonist fought his way against the mundane seas of opposition! Did he not know that thousands braved the waves before him, and failure, more often than not, met them in the end? And yet, he fought on.

Miles often wondered if it was bravery or sheer stupidity that fueled the man on. Perhaps asking Phoenix about it would shed some light...or not. Coming from his mouth, it might end up sounding more like an insult.

Much of his annoyance had already dissipated by then. He felt awful that he had to leave his friend at a time like this, but he trusted that Phoenix would never let himself be beaten by unfavourable circumstances. Besides, if the man was capable of riling him up like that, he's probably already feeling better.

Grabbing a paper towel and subsequently drying his hands with it, Miles prepared himself to head out and reconcile with the idiot. As much as he hated to admit it, he was partially responsible for the awkward situation. Phoenix looked absolutely dejected during the end of the conversation. He even apologized, which was something that Miles _hadn't done._

_I should, though. I can't leave him like this._

Catching one last glance at himself in the mirror, however, stopped him in his tracks. The same face that had been looking back at him day after day, year after year, albeit slightly red from the alcohol. His right hand ran over his lower jaw, as Phoenix's remark earlier came back to him:

"_Just thought that I haven't seen your smile in ages, that's all."_

True, smiles rarely grace his face.

_...Sentimental fool._

Taking a deep breath that fuelled his resolution to make up with the damned defense attorney, Miles came out of the restroom and strided back to their seats, only to find his friend slumped face down on the bar counter. Concerned, he rushed over quickly and placed a hand on the man's back.

"Phoenix? Are you feeling okay?"

He tried to check the defense attorney's face, which wasn't really possible with Phoenix's head position.

A hand darted out suddenly, nearly hitting Miles's face, and slammed on the counter weakly. The sudden movement took the prosecutor by surprise, and he flinched backwards with a small yelp.

"I'm fine!" a muffled voice rang out from the drunken heap. Miles stared with disbelief, as Phoenix's hand flopped down heavily, returning to its limp position of dangling beside the unmoving body.

"I reckon he's had more than enough, sir," Miles turned his head to their bartender, who was wiping a cocktail glass dry. "He was talking to the glasses when you were away."

Miles was sure he left his mouth gaping for a second or two, before abruptly remembering to close it.

"Do not tell me that you can barely stomach three glasses of beer," he remarked incredulously.

"Objection," came a weak protest from the man in question. "...Had 'nother two more martinis," he ended with a small chuckle.

"And you still have the gall to be proud of what you did?" Miles crossed his arms across his chest in frustration and glared at the drunken attorney.

"The martinis were _horrible_...but yeah, 'm proud," Wright retorted feebly.

A few seconds past by as Miles stood glaring at the pathetic fool. He had almost forgotten that the attorney was just discharged from hospital two days ago, from a fall. He'd probably hit his head harder than they all thought when he splashed into the frigid waters, and had lost all his common sense. What little he had left, that is.

"I am not babysitting two drunks in a row!" Miles said vehemently.

"'M not drun..." his 'not-drunk' friend muttered while attempting to lift himself off the bar, "an' I don't...need babysitting, mollycoddling, whatever."

"Your inability to string an intelligible sentence suggests otherwise," the prosecutor gritted his teeth as he reached for his wallet from his jacket and paid for their drinks, idly noticing that they had combined both their bills together. Not that he'd mind.

Wright finally got his face peeled off the surface of the countertop, and was glaring at Miles with somewhat contempt.

"I put my drinks on your bill," he tried to sound disgruntled, but his glassy eyes only made him look like a dejected beagle.

"I noticed," Miles answered back, while he tidied his wallet and kept it back.

"It's my payback, for your...inability to put your trust in me," the defense attorney continued, carefully mouthing each word and mocking his friend's earlier remark, "I can get myself home, _perfectly_."

The prosecutor narrowed his eyes at him, "Oh, I do trust in your ability to get yourself home _perfectly_," he mimicked Wright's tone derisively, "when you're sober. In which case you are currently not, in case you haven't noticed."

A moment of pure stubbornness stagnanted as both lawyers refused to give in to the other. Finally Wright attempted to push himself up with one arm on the bar counter.

"I said I'm not drun-_whoaah_!"

One of Wright's leg gave way when he got up of the barstool, almost sending his full weight knocking down onto Miles's earlier seat, if the silver-haired man hadn't moved in reflex and caught him in time. The fall caught both of them (and the bartender, who leant over the countertop to check) in surprise, as Miles struggled to pull both of them upright. People were right when they say the drunk and the dead weight like stones.

"You were saying?" Miles countered the argument in between the exertions.

"I'm fine…Just, a little woozy…fine…" Wright interjected, struggling to stand up straight, but apparently his legs were made of jelly.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Miles fumbled for a firm grip on the stubborn lawyer, "Stop trying to be difficult and let me help you!"

The struggling stopped, and Miles finally was able to steady both of them. Like a child who was just reprimanded, Wright's flushed face showed defiance, but at least he was willing to accept his friend's assistance.

"It's not about whether or not you are drunk. It's whether or not you'll let me help you," the prosecutor sighed a little. Wright reeked heavily of alcohol, and his attention was somewhere else, as his glassy eyes were looking at everywhere but Miles.

Deciding that it was all right to move again, Miles nudged the man properly onto his shoulder. "Are we ready to go?"

Wright answered with a reluctant grunt that could either mean 'yes' or 'I'm not drunk'.

When dealing with stubborn witnesses, Miles knew the only way was to drag the truth out of them by force and intimidation. Similarly, when dealing with a certain stubborn lawyer, the only way was to drag him out of the bar without waiting for an answer. The offendant will either walk or stumble, both of which Miles really didn't care at all.

A blast of cold air hit both men's faces as Miles opened the front door. The defense attorney jumped a little at the new sensation, the cool wind actually sobering him up a little. Miles was reveled in the fact that Wright could walk a little on his own again, thankfully lifting some of the load off his shoulders.

"W-where…we goin'?" Wright managed to blurt out a question.

"I am going to take _you_ back to _your_ place, and then _I_ will go back to _my_ hotel room," Miles answered while his eyes darted along the street for a cab. Spotting one, he quickly signalled it with his free hand. The cab duly stopped beside them and Miles fuddled with opening the door while balancing Wright on his shoulders.

"Aww, no second round?" a few dry chuckles escaped the reeking mouth.

"No. Now get in the car," Miles answered flatly while pushing his drunken friend into the backseat of the cab, and grimaced a little at the putrid smell of the cab as he clambered in beside Wright. Normally he would have gotten another cab, but Wright seemed to be rather fond of the upholstery, with the way he was sticking his face into the seats.

"Where to?" the cab driver asked without turning his head around, but the prosecutor could see from the rear mirror that the man had his face all scrunched up, and Miles half convinced himself that he could also almost hear the driver's cursing inner monologues about drunken men puking in his cab. Which would actually explain the horrible smell in the car.

"Wright, your address."

Said man struggled with delivering his home address in a coherent manner, and when the driver finally understood and started for the direction of his apartment, Wright's heavy head crashed down on Miles's shoulder.

The sudden impact jolted him, as the foreign weight banged into his shoulder bone. He restrained himself from wincing in pain, and discreetly tried to lessen the weight of the heavy head that continued to pound into his aching shoulder by sinking lower and lower on that side, and ending up with his body contorted into an unnatural posture.

"Miles…?"

Wright's small voice prompted him to pause at an uncomfortable position, "Y-yes?"

"I…hope you don't mind…my head…so dizzy…"

As Miles Edgeworth listened to Phoenix's voice trailing off to be replaced with long draws of breath, he knew that it would be heartless for him to deny his friend a simple request, even if it meant a sore shoulder and spine for the rest of the night.

"No, of course not."

Author's note: Apparently, when I thought I could have this chapter done by a week, I actually meant months. Go, procrastinating me! Sorry guys, and thank you for still sticking around :)


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 10

Miles's shoulder was rather comfortable, as Phoenix found out rather amusingly. Broad and safe, with a hint of expensive cologne emanating from the body beneath the jacket. In his current condition, he was rather surprised he could still analyze anything at all.

When he was younger, he was a big crybaby. Heck, he knew it, and he often got teased by Larry for it. But Miles was always nice to him. The young boy with kempt silver hair would chide the sandy-haired one, and then let the spiky black hair one bury his tear-sodden face in his perfectly pressed suits. That was seventeen years ago, but it felt exactly the same then.

The inside of the cab smelled funny, the motion of the car made his head-spinning worse, but at least he still had Miles beside him. Miles Edgeworth, that always made everything seemed bearable at least – falls, exams, getting into trouble caused by Larry...He could feel the onset of a huge headache.

_You're too old to be doing crazy stuff that Larry does, Phoenix._

Mixing beer and martini together, what a brilliant idea that was. Maybe next he could try juggling with knives.

He'd always tried to be sensible. He had to. There were crazy clients and insane witnesses to deal with. If Maya were allowed with her ridiculous hypothesis and antics, he'd had to be the sane half of the team.

_Miles is always sensible. I guess that makes it okay for me to be...foolishly foolish for now._

But if being foolishly foolish meant having a hurling stomach and headache, it's probably more trouble than it's worth. He groaned in discomfort.

"You might want to drive slower, if you don't want to have your car sent to be cleaned after my friend empties his stomach."

That must be the nicest thing that Miles had done for him that evening, as he could really feel the car slowing down to a more bearable speed.

Neither men spoke a word afterwards, as the cab cruised along the streets. Phoenix would have loved to break the silence, but he was too occupied with dealing with the havoc that the alcohol rush was wrecking with his body. Under closed eyelids, bursts of colors flooded through every time they past by a street lamp, and he squirmed to get away from more assaults to his frazzled mind by burying his face into Miles's jacket. He could feel the man's body tense as a result, but his head swam so much that he clung on even tighter. He was no longer bombarded by the harsh lights, and his head felt better. With all other senses put on hold, the smell of Miles Edgeworth was strangely…calming.

_If anything, it helps to mask the awful stench of this cab._

The rest of the ride was awfully silent, with neither man making any small talk, except for the occasional moan from Phoenix when the driver swung his cab too forcefully around corners and made the attorney feel like spilling his stomach contents out. He only resisted because he knew Miles would scream bloody murder for emptying stomach juice on him, and then demand that he pay for the laundry.

He didn't like the silence. It wasn't long before his mind drifted away to the events that happened a few days ago. He desperately wanted to divert his attention elsewhere.

_The girls are safe, Maya is strong, and Pearls will be strong too...Miles is here, and he's trying his damnedest to make me feel better. Don't screw this up any further._

Fortunately his apartment wasn't too much of a distance away from the bar. After a few more gut-churning turns on the quiet street, he could feel the car pull over to a stop. Miles moved a little under him, probably trying to reach for his wallet. Phoenix reluctantly lifted his head away from his friend's shoulder and resorted to balance it by the window. With a few ruffle of notes and a curt "keep the change" from a certain snobbish prosecutor, the door on the other side was opened and it wasn't long before his door was opened too. Opening both eyes groggily, he could see Miles leaning towards him from outside the cab, and with a loud groan heaved his uncooperative body from the cab.

Once again Phoenix's body was hit by a cold draft as he was pulled out of the cab. This time, he gave a loud protest as Miles tentatively allowed him to stand on his own. The reply came only after the cab had left and both men had steadied themselves.

"Would you have rather spent the night in the backseat of that moving garbage bin instead? I would gladly leave you in there instead of pulling my muscles trying to lift you back into your apartment."

Detecting irritation in Miles's reply, Phoenix shook his head in haste, only to lose his balance and nearly kissing the pavement, if it weren't for the prosecutor catching him in time.

"Seriously, Wright. Pull yourself together. That's the second time you've lost your balance tonight."

Phoenix managed a weak smile as Miles draped one of his arms around the prosecutor's shoulder, "I'm all right."

"You certainly are, Wright," Miles replied with an amused smile.

_If only he knew that he almost made a pun…or was that a sarcastic remark?_

Before Phoenix could ponder the answer, Miles had begun dragging him up the small flight of stairs leading to his apartment.

Author's note: Finally managed to get this written, sorry it took so long! If this chapter seems short to you, that's because nothing much could happen on a taxi ride, hehe, and I wanted to switch to Miles's perspective for what happens next. Still, hope you enjoyed this, and mighty thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: If I get sued, I want Miles Edgeworth as the prosecutor and Phoenix Wright as my defense attorney.

**A Reason to Smile**

Chapter 11

The night was cold and starting to get windy. Miles stood in front of the apartment lobby door, watching impatiently as Wright kept punching in the wrong password.

"You are being absurd," he finally said as the keypad buzzed the error tone for the sixth time.

"Oh yeah? Well I call this...diligence..." Wright retorted, his fingers struggling to make contact with the correct numbers, "just like how I...always do in court, press, press...press again-" this time the keypad chimed and the door opened "-_finally_!"

"You could have just told me the password and let me punch it in," Miles chided as he carefully maneuvered the both of them through the door.

"I'm fine, I said I'm not drunk..."

Miles was careful of his steps. Wright's uncooperative legs were constantly in the way, half-dragging across the gaudy floor tiles. "'Fine_'_ means in complete control of your motor skills. You were just being impossible. Now, which floor? Depending on your answer, I might leave you to sleep here in the lobby tonight."

"Just one floor up," Wright chuckled, before pausing for a moment. "The, ah, elevator's down, we have to take the stairs. I'll walk on my own."

Miles threw a look over to the elevators but made no notion of letting go of his friend, "Are you sure? I don't see..."

Wright tried to struggle out of the prosecutor's support, "I got the notice when I was leaving. Trust me, okay?"

"Stop trying to run off on your own," Miles growled while keeping a firm grip on the stubborn man, "Walking is hardly a capable task for you to accomplish now. Hold tight to me." Wright was rather adamant about not taking the elevators, so even though he was not fully convinced, Miles had no choice but to move both of them towards the flight of stairs.

The first few steps were a steady but slow progress, as Wright was steadfast in walking on his own, while Miles held on to the defense attorney with his right hand and gripped the handrails with his left. The intermediate landing provided a fleeting moment of rest, but Miles could barely catch his breath before a very anxious Wright tried to tug both of them up the rest of the stairs.

"Wright! Slow down -" he almost lost a footing as he lost his balance. Good thing he had been clutching the handrails.

"Can't...Emergency!" Wright's voice was muffled by the hand covering his mouth. It only took Miles a second to deduce what was going to happen.

"Hold it! Don't you dare!" Miles barked out as he used his last vestiges of strength to finish hauling the both of them up the final few steps, two at a time.

What happened next was as though it was rehearsed beforehand. Wright was quick to point out his apartment door, and Miles summoned all he could to half-drag-half-trot them both towards it. Wright had already fished out his keys from his pocket, and tossed them at Miles, apparently not trusting his inebriated self for the task, and instead leant against the wall to focus on controlling his retching. Miles wasted no time in unlocking the door, and Wright bolted in as fast as his unsteady legs could carry him, straight towards the toilet.

Miles stood beyond the apartment door. He was panting, and his legs felt like they could give way at any moment, but what had happened finally caught up in his mind. Mildly amused that they had acted together without words – _Just like in court, interestingly_ – he hesitantly stepped into Wright's apartment, _without an invitation_, the little voice in his head reminded. It's unlikely the defense attorney would mind, but still, manners _are_ manners. He couldn't help but feel a bit of fascination as he ignored years of etiquette to invade his friend's personal abode, his domain. In the dark, the apartment looked unwelcoming, and his heart rate raised in irrational fear. He still couldn't handle the dark well, but fortunately his fingers found the light switch just beside the door, and he flicked it on.

As the apartment came to life with lights, a retching sound could be clearly heard across the space. Miles frowned slightly as he imagined how terrible his friend must be feeling then. Crossing the small distance, he stood just outside the dark toilet, where the kneeling form of his friend could be seen worshipping the toilet bowl.

Miles let out a small sigh. "Are you all right?" he asked softly, while searching for the light switch and turning it on. Phoenix groaned slightly in reply, then promptly continued lurching the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl.

"...Right. I'll fetch you some water." Miles scanned the sink, but found no glasses or mugs, and muttered 'kitchen' as he gingerly made his way towards said place.

There was nothing remotely special about Phoenix's apartment. It bore resemblance to how people would usually perceive a bachelor's residence, with its uninteresting wall colours and furniture that clash styles with each other. But while one would also expect to find the house in disarray, Phoenix's abode was actually neat and tidy. Funny, as Miles had imagined him to be the unkempt type, judging from the way he handle his evidence in court.

Which goes to show how little he knew of the man he regarded highly, and one he could honestly call a friend.

The kitchen was an area of interest to him. Miles could cook, but his long work hours when he was still a district attorney in this part of the globe usually meant that he would eat out, or forgo meals entirely, and thus his kitchen stayed as pristine as the day he first moved in. Phoenix's kitchen told the same story, although Miles wondered if he had even learned how to cook in the first place.

_Pity, I am beginning to find the joy in cooking once more, now that I have the luxury of time._

Rummaging through the cabinets, Miles was slightly intrigued to find a couple of Steel Samurai plastic cups among the rest of the drinkware. He contemplated taking one of them, before he thought better of it and took a common-looking blue mug nearest to him and filled it with water.

While waiting for the mug to be filled, his roaming eyes happened upon the defense attorney's medication on the kitchen counter. It was a rude reminder that just two days ago, Phoenix was bedridden in hospital with a high fever and bruises from his forty-feet fall into the ice cold waters of Eagle River.

_Dumb luck, indeed! He made it look like he had only fallen from a bicycle accident._

The situation in the toilet seemed to have calmed down as Miles arrived at the door with the water. At least, the defense attorney no longer seemed to be huddling over the porcelain bowl. He looked like a mess though, with his hair drooping over his face, and his hoodie stained in front with vomit. Kneeling in front of the toilet bowl and breathing hoarsely only accentuated his pitiful form.

"Here," Miles extended a hand, to which the other man hesitated a little before taking it gingerly. The prosecutor pulled him off the tile floor and lead him to the sink. "Water," he said gently as he pushed the mug into his friend's hands, and only letting go when he was sure Phoenix could hold it on his own.

He watched as Phoenix shakily send the water to his mouth and swished around a little, before expelling into the sink. He waited some more as his friend gulped down the rest of the water, and passed him back the now empty mug with a weak "thanks". He gave a short nod and stepped out of the toilet, leaving the disheveled man to his business. The mug needed to be washed.

This was all unfamiliar territory to him - washing a mug that didn't belong to him, in a kitchen that wasn't his. But the steps were no different. Rinse, lather, then rinse again. Phoenix's medication peeked at him from the corner of his eye, reminding him of the fact that the unbeatable-in-court Ace Attorney, the real-life Steel Samurai, was only human underneath it all.


End file.
